Page 103 of Dare To Love Me

LUCA

Pain rocketed into my knees when I hit the floor. Shame oozed out of every pore. My hands raked into my hair, fisting it hard enough to tare it out by the roots. Agony charred my guts without mercy. From the beginning I knew I didn’t deserve her, and I had just hammered the last nail in the coffin of proof.

“What have I done?” Air froze in my lungs. Everything she said was right on the money. Including the type of man I was, but the knowledge of it had never effected me enough to care. Until she said it.

A reel of impending consequences throttled my brain. She’s going to hate me forever. Never forget how untrusting and terrible I treated her. She’ll probably never let me touch her again. The list went on and on.

The fact she had been so calm after I hit her scared me more than if she had gone into a tirade. I deserved her wrath. Instead she split me wide open with her proclamation that the whole time she had been dreaming of a different life, with me. All my fears were nothing more than false pretenses, driven by a lifetime of always assuming the worst.

I dragged myself off the floor, falling onto the couch. I bent over placing my head in my hands, so deep in my self-loathing I almost missed the sound of the door opening.

When I looked up to see Matteo’s concerned gaze drilling into me, I sighed. Vexation showed in his furrowed brow and tense shoulders. He made his way over to the couch opposite me. For a long minute he sat there studying me carefully.

“What happened?”

“I fucked up so bad.” My gaze dropped to the floor. “I hit her.”

“I know.”

“How?” I looked at him confused.

“She came down to ask Arianna to accompany her home. The red cheek and blood on her mouth was obvious. Lots of people saw.”

“She must have been so humiliated. She is going to hate me forever.” My head fell back against the couch then I closed my eyes to the image of her having to endure the humiliation.

“Why did you let my dad get you all worked up? You let him fuel your anger, just like when we were young. I love my father, but he is a bastard at best. He loves to manipulate, something you well know. He planted the idea she was flirting. You jumped to conclusions.”

“I know. The more I feel for her, the more confused and worked up I get about everything else. I don’t know what’s happening to me.”

Matteo chuckled knowingly. We both know that was a lie.

“What am I going to do, Matteo?” Desperation hung on every word. If anyone; my best friend, my brother, could help pull me out of this hell I had put myself in.

BAM. BAM. BAM. Hard knocks shook the door, conveying urgency.

Matteo nodded to me with a stern expression. I jumped from the couch and rushed to the bathroom to put on a new shirt and smooth my hair. After putting my coat and belt back on I slipped on a mask of authority. No one could see me broken down like a wounded animal. Showing weakness was unacceptable no matter what the situation.

Matteo opened the door when I nodded that I was ready.

Nico stormed through the door, frustration radiating from his body. “We have a problem.” He threw me a menacing look.

* * *

We followed Nicodown to the back warehouse where a small crowd had already gathered.

Lorenzo and several of our men faced off with a dozen or more Irishmen. Shaun Booker stood at the front, a decent black and blue bruise decorating the side of his head. His throat bobbed when my lip curled into a sneer.

It took all of half a second to conclude what the outcome of this conversation would be. I had assaulted an Irishmen associate, not twenty minutes after negotiating terms of partnership. The Irish would demand blood.

My blood.

As we approached Matteo nodded to his father who wore an entertained smirk. “Father.”

Lorenzo gestured to the Irish with a grand sweep of his hand, giving Matteo permission to take the lead.

Matteo turned to face the Irish Don, tugging casually at his lapels. “Mr. O’Connell, what seems to be the problem?”

“You fucking know what the problem is. Your man assaulted my associate. Is this what I am to expect for the future?” The Irish leader’s heavy accent clipped with annoyance. His thick, light brown hair shifted out of place as he waved his arm in disgust.

---